Why we send Holiday Cards, many with Letters. By the way, Happy Festivus! Its for the rest of us...in this cruel, chaotic messed up, hateful world... Well thats why.
Comedy is quite often my ticket away from pain. The rest of my writing stems from the vigilante within me. And the truths I've personally experienced, the dystopian world many have unseen, because it's too harsh to admit it to oneself. Yes, I'm writing somewhat dark. I write dark, with humor twisted into the cracks to shed a glimmer ... a very small glimmer of hope into the unseen world. Follow me... I'm airing out my grievances. I'm late on getting my Festivus Pole up. But it'll arrive in time. I'm sure of it.
I used to tell people before I turned age thirty, that I sent Holiday cards out so they could be happily surprised that it wasn't another bill. I don't know how they took that. But it was meant as a humorous anecdote in my own quirky sort of way. In return, they grieved that I missed some grammatical element in the Holiday letter, that it wasn't a very good letter. And that I'm not a good writer. So, please give it up, they'd imply.
However, for tortuous fun, I continued writing and sending my Holiday letters. I'd laugh the great evil laugh, internally that was. And sending it... To all, and to all a good Festivus!
Yes, they were relatives that had Holiday letter grammatical grievances, no names please... stated such to me.
It could be months later at a function. It was like, "...I received your Holiday letter... you suck at writing..." My reply, "Well, you know I'm not really a writer. I just been enjoying writing since I was age seven." Then I'd smile like the cat that swallowed the canary.
My writing had been so criticized that by the time I reached adulthood, criticism barely hurt. Then when I got to the 'big time' and was raked over the coals with lighter fluid it was a pin prick. It came to the point, I'd already dug a 346 foot 6.0876 inch hole and written so much that I now can stand on my written million sheets of paper 341 foot 2.4876 inches, approximately. Standing on my tippy toes just enough to peer over the edge of the hole to see the grass I laid beneath.
Going back to the pole... Yes the Festivus celebration. I've decided to start at the nearest pole to my home on or about December 23rd. There will be some of my kale, parsley, celery, pepper and salt crackers with a dash of garlic and onion. The crackers are to denote the Catholic churchs I attended, before I decided it wasn’t exactly for me. Bring breath mints please. And of course there should be bottled grape juice to wash the crackers down. The grape juice represents the many Protestant church's I attended as a child. As we'd pretended that the grape juice was Chateau Lafite. So, we were told that we were wealthy beyond money because of our religious beliefs.
I can say, I've been to Buddhist Temple. And I've been to Shul. But I've never been to Mosque (sung to the tune of "I've Never Been To Me", sung by Charlene in 1977.).
I digress to now close with my readers perhaps having an old 70s tune stuck in their heads.
Happy Festivus for the rest of us! And you're welcome. I'm taking my Thank yous in advance, because you never know what tomorrow won't bring. ----Jody-Lynn Reicher